Calculated
by HecateA
Summary: She'd been told so by the last praetor, Aurelia McQuaid. "Look perfect, act perfect, be perfect to them. People like what doesn't exist, so that'll seal their respect even if things go poorly." And so every morning Reyna spent time she would rather spend elsewhere to make herself presentable. Everything was calculated. Oneshot. Dedicated to Lara D.


**Oh my gods it's someone's birthday today! **

**Dedication: Lara D, an amazing friend on ****I told you I had something planned for you :) This wasn't what I'd thought I'd be posting, but now it is! So I hope you enjoy it very much, and I hope you enjoyed your day too.**

**Disclaimer: Me no own**

* * *

**Calculated**

When you were the praetor of Rome, you earned immense respect. And even if you didn't, everyone owed it to you anyways. But when you were a praetor of Rome as well as the daughter of a minor goddess and as well as a girl… well, Roman law was a little old fashioned every now and then. Of course, girls had been praetor since the Civil War, when a girl sick of being a nurse broke the ice. But people tended to turn to the other praetor, the _boy, _for solutions. It was a political game even post-election. _Especially _post-election, in some cases (for example, if you had Octavian at camp while you were running it).

Bottom line; you had to look the part. You had to look even more groomed and perfect and presentable than anybody else in the fort. It was the first step of earning respect.

She'd been told so by the last praetor, Aurelia McQuaid. "Look perfect, act perfect, be perfect to them. People like what doesn't exist, so that'll seal their respect even if things go poorly."

And so every morning Reyna spent time she would rather spend elsewhere to make herself presentable. Everything was calculated.

She wore gladiator sandals.

Under her armour her clothes were usually a purple tank top or shirt and black jeans or leggings. Just in case she had to take her armour off quickly during the day, she didn't want to look like she'd rolled out of bed and walked out of her door wearing sweatpants or something.

Her armour was always polished. By now it'd been so used by generations of half-bloods that some of its natural shine had gone. No blood, no dirt. Every evening she had to sit down (which she hated) and polish it (which she hated even more).

The medals pinned on it were aligned straight.

The purple cloak was tied perfectly. If it looked off of half and inch Reyna changed it. It had to.

She always let it expose her tattoo to show it off.

Her knife was always at her side, both for easy access and to let people know that she was armed.

She usually had another hidden in a leg holster- a praetor's perk that Terminus obliged to after the Julius Caesar incident.

No jewellery. She didn't own any jewellery, but she wouldn't wear any if she did. It was frivolous, unnecessary and it got in the way. This respected her personal beliefs as well, so she didn't get in trouble often- although on days when she felt homesick or alone she had a tendency to hang the ring of Bellona on a chain and hide it under her armour.

Her hair was the trickiest part because she wasn't good at it. She'd put it up in a braid usually, which was very Roman and kept it out of the way, and it would last the whole day.

On days where she knew that a godling or Lupa was visiting, she'd do something more elaborate.

If it was going to be a paperwork-in-the-principia kind of day, or a senate meeting that wouldn't requite action on her behalf she let it down. But it had to be clean and proper and in order or else it looked bad.

Her person in general had to look good too. No make-up of course, but proper hygiene was even more enforced for her than for the other legionnaires.

Being praetor was more high-maintenance than you'd think.

It was all planned out in detail, ever single part of her and the way she'd act (hard but just and unwavering, so that people didn't start thinking they could challenge her and also just because she was who she was) and talk (formally, with a controlled tone) and sit (back straight, head up, hands folded on the table or the arms of her chair).

Reyna rather put that kind of consideration and thought and time in a battle map or siege, but she couldn't leave the entire political game on Jason's shoulders.

And so she calculated.

* * *

"Morning," Jason said as she emerged from her villa.

"Good morning, Grace." She said.

"Ooh, last names this morning, what did I do?" He asked. "Did I leave the Principia unlocked? Did I forget to sign something?"

"What did you _not _do?" Reyna said with a smile.

"Moon," Jason said. "I haven't gone to the moon. I think I'd enjoy the moon, though."

"I think you'd enjoy the moon too," Reyna said. "I think you should go right now."

"And leave you alone? Pff, no way Rey." He said. "C'mon, let's go grab some food. It's going to be a long day in the senate." He said putting an arm around her shoulder super casually as they walked.

Her feelings for Jason were not planned and precise and calculated.


End file.
